


Attack Dog

by orphan_account



Category: Jrock, the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Bloodplay, Cannibalism, Claiming Bites, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Masochism, Light BDSM, M/M, Near Future, Sadism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:52:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4429100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takanori (Ruki) is an Attack Dog, a cannibal hired to retrieve body-related debts for The Bank. Akira (Reita) is his Handler, the person who makes sure he stays in line and doesn't devour the debt owed; in most cases, organs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Attack Dog Part 1

The man was snivelling, a pathetic sobbing mess of blood and tears. His guts hung out of the large opening below his stomach, a river of blood and intestines flowing down to the floor. The man was barely alive, but that was better than dead, for now.

Takanori Matsumoto stood back and admired his handy work. The red of his kimono disguised the blood stains and his bare feet were surrounded by the spreading pool of blood. Takanori fixed the black obi around his waist and smiled.

He reached forward and the man whimpered - Takanori had forgotten his name, Shi-something -, and Takanori's smile widened as he gripped the end of the man's intestines and pulled. Takanori stepped back and kept pulling, wounding the squidgy tube around his hand as he went, until there was a dull snap and the last of the man's intestines came cascading out of his body and splattered fluids across the floor. Takanori dropped the rest and wiped his hands on his kimono.

"The average length of the small intestine in an adult human male is 6.9 metres (22 ft 8 in), the large intestine is about 1.5 metres (4.9 ft) long, so do you know how long that is in total?" Takanori's smile spread from ear to ear, and his red eyes were wide and sparkling in the dim light of the apartment living room.

The man whimpered again.

"Ooh, wrong answer. The answer that I was looking for was 8.4 metres (27 ft 6 in)."

"Taka, stop playing with your food."

Takanori groaned and turned around as Akira Suzuki entred the room. He wore an expensive business suit and tie, complete with Italian leather shoes, but offseted by the white noseband across his face and his bleached-blonde hair was styled into a sort of mohawk. He retrieved a hologram mobile from his jacket pocket and checked the time on the blue tinted hologram display. "You have an hour before I'm legally required to call an ambulance, in the meantime, take your fill." Akira put the phone back into his jacket pocket.

Takanori beamed with excitement, and turned back to his victim with his fangs bared. The man was unconscious, so wasn't fortunate to see that beautiful, yet at the same time horrifying smile of Takanori's.

As Takanori ripped the man's right arm from his body and began to chew on the flesh, Akira stepped forward. "I am legally obliged by the company to read you your rights. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one then the government will appoint you one for free. You have the right to ask for an ambulance. Would you like to do so?" The man didn't answer, obviously, and Akira sighed and continued. "Shiba Temaki, you have failed to keep up with the payments to The Bank, and, as a result, The Bank has had to exert another means of getting back what is owed - Taka, not the lungs, remember?"

Takanori was crouching over the man's chest, his heart in his hands. He grinned and sank his fangs into the heart, blood squirting over his face.

Akira turned back to the now dead man, his face a void of emotions. "The Bank is sorry that it has come to this, but the Attack Dog was necessary in order to get back the debt owed for your lungs. Keep up with your payments next time." He chuckled.

Takanori wolfed down the heart and began to lick the blood off his hands. When he looked back Akira was waiting with a metal briefcase in hand. Takanori reached forward and into the man's chest cavity. He wrenched each lung out and placed them into the plastic bag that Akira offered, before snapping the briefcase close.

Takanori stood and picked a slice of flesh from between his teeth with his sharp red-painted claws. His flicked his blonde hair out of his face and followed Akira out of the apartment.


	2. Attack Dog Part 2

"No."

"Oh, come on! I swear I won't touch the liver! Just a little cut!"

"No."

"Just a teensy weensy little cut! He won't scream, he's already dead, and - oh look he's shat his pants!" Takanori laughed and stared down at the lifeless body of the small business executive as a brown stain began to spread down his pinstripe trouser leg.

Akira made a face and crossed his arms over his chest.

Takanori turned his attention back to the argument. "Come on! Just one cut, that's all I'm asking!" The red handled chainsaw that he had brought along was leaning against his side, blade embedded into the hardwood flooring.

Akira sighed, defeated. It wasn't like Takanori was going to go absolutely raving mad with the chainsaw. "Fine." He groaned, and Takanori clapped his hands together in delight before grabbing the chainsaw.

Akira walked out of the room as the mechanic whirring noise filled the apartment, shortly followed by the sounds of bones being cut in two and Takanori's sequels of insane delight. Akira walked down the hallway and into the man's study, flicking the switch and illuminating the small workspace.

Framed family photos lined the oak desk, their subjects smiling and happy looking. Akira spotted the business executive in one of them, smiling as he held the hand of a little girl with long black hair. He noticed how the business executive looked younger, the photo was probably years old. Akira wondered if the man's family knew what debt he had gotten into, that right now daddy was getting sliced in two by a short cannibalistic blonde with masochistic tendencies.

Akira smiled to himself.

It didn't help that he fueled Takanori's masochistic behaviour with his sadistic own. They were two halves of a whole; the perfect match. They knew what the other wanted and gladly gave it to them. There were no boundaries, only their own desires.

Of course, they had to keep it tightly under wraps. Society still frowned on that sort of thing, and Akira knew that if The Bank caught wind of his and Takanori's relationship then their partnership would be immediately terminated, and Takanori would no doubt be sentenced to death. A Handler/Attack Dog relationship was forbidden, and Takanori was a cannibal, only allowed to live because he was right for the job. As soon as he wasn't, he would be put down like a common mutt.

It made Akira shiver.

Takanori, sensing the change in his Handler's mood, dropped his chainsaw to the floor and went in search of Akira. He was covered in blood, his bare chest coated in sticky bits of flesh and congealed blood, his jeans almost soaked through and his red boots stained with an even brighter red.

Akira felt Takanori's presence right beside him, and turned his head slightly to acknowledge the Attack Dog. "You finished in there?"

"Yeah. I bagged the liver then had some fun. I'm full, can't eat no more." Takanori rubbed a clawed hand over his belly, feeling the warmth of the human flesh radiate through him and satisfy the burning hunger that had teased him since his last meal.

Akira smiled and turned to face the blonde. He felt the weight of the stun gun in his inside pocket and the silliness of the thing. He didn't need it with Takanori, he was never a danger to him. It was mandatory for all Handlers, the stun gun that fired a thin metal nib about the length of a your pinky finger, but could knock a fully grown man unconscious in seconds. It definitely wasn't something that you wanted to be on the receiving end of.

"What are you thinking?" Takanori asked, licking the blood off his hands.

"Just... How people should really pay their bills on time." Akira slipped past Takanori with a smile and back into the living room.

Takanori had gone raving mad with the chainsaw. Total overkill. Blood covered almost every surface, staining velvet sofas, congealing on kitchen surfaces, even dripping off the ceiling. And the man. Well, he couldn't really be called a man anymore. His face was cracked in half down the middle, brain matter and blood mixed with mucus and teeth and gum matter slid down his neck and chest. He no longer had the lower half of his body, that was halfway across the room, the flesh stripped down to leave nothing but pink stained white.

Takanori had eaten almost half a man. That should satisfy his hunger for long enough. The Attack Dog looked healthier, his skin almost glowing, his teeth seemed whiter, his gums healthier, his eyes brighter. The wonders that human flesh could do!

Akira picked up the metal briefcase from the kitchen counter, confirming that Takanori hadn't harmed the liver, and met him at the front door of the house. "After you." He said with a smile, before following Takanori out the door.

***

The Bank headquarters in Japan was in Tokyo, a high rise glass walled skyscraper that almost blended in with the black of the star-less night sky. Takanori followed Akira out of the lift on the top floor and past the CEO's reception's desk, sending her an cheeky and insane grin as he passed. She paled and hurriedly typed onto holographic screen on her desk, the words coming up on another holographic screen to her right.

Akira held the door open for Takanori and walked into the large office. He placed the metal briefcase on the desk and flipped it open.

Sato Hemura smiled, leaning back in the large leather chair with his hands folded on his lap. "Excellent job as always, Suzuki. You too, mutt." He glanced over at Takanori and the blonde sneared. "Was the Attack Dog cooperative?"

"He always is." Akira stood with his hands behind his back and his poker face on. Beside him, Takanori played with his nails, uncomfortable.

Sato treated the Attack Dogs that he employed as simply that - dogs. Technically, by the terms of Attack Dogs' contracts, everyone single one was owned by him. They were there to fulfill their job role and nothing more. The Handlers were like people who came by dog rescue homes to foster them, they were partnered with them and they tolerated each other, but Sato truly owned them. If The Bank hadn't employed them, then they would all be sentenced to death. Society wasn't nice to convicted cannibals. Every single one of them owed Sato their life, and they knew it.

"I'm surprised you don't keep him on a leash - makes them much easier to control." Sato grinned and walked around his desk to stand in front of Akira.

Akira kept his poker face and didn't answer. He would never put a collar on Takanori, it was too inhumane, it made Takanori seem like an animal, when Akira knew that he was everything but. Takanori could love, hate, laugh, speak, cry and feel pain just like any human could, it was just that he preferred human flesh to animal meat. It was a dietary choice, like being a vegetarian or vegan.

Sato watched Akira for a moment."Right, time to discuss your payment."

***

Akira lived in the penthouse suite of an expensive complex. Working for The Bank meant that he could afford the more finer things in life. He didn't live alone, Takanori had lived with him since they first got partnered together. Normally, Handlers would leave Attack Dogs in the underground levels that resembled a kennel far too much for Akira's liking, but he didn't want that life for Takanori, so had offered him residence at his place.

Takanori stretched as he walked into the bedroom, fresh out the shower and butt naked. "Sato's an ass."

Akira put down his book on the bedside table and pulled back the bed covers for Takanori to slide in. "What do you mean?" He asked, as Takanori cuddled up to him.

"You know the whole 'keep him on a leash' thing. He's an egotistical bastard who needs to get knocked back into reality." Takanori's tongue flicked across his fangs.

Akira recognised that action. "You can't eat him, Taka. And besides, he'll probably taste like crap." He ran his fingers through Takanori's bleached-blonde hair, a few damp strands wetting his hand.

Takanori grimaced. "Ew! No, I was thinking more of pushing him off a cliff. See if a leash will control that fall."

Akira laughed loudly. Takanori had a morbid sense of humour. He glanced down and from the way Takanori's head was tilted his eyes were drawn to the black ink tattoo on the back of his neck. It was a barcode, thick black lines and thin black lines in a random order that formed the block of barcode, and the database code beneath it.

TM-82-1569.

That was what marked Takanori as an Attack Dog. To The Bank he was nothing more than a piece of equipment for getting back debt owed, to Handlers he was nothing more than a work partner that you barley tolerated, and to society, well, he was one of the lowest scum to walk the Earth.

But to Akira he was so much more than that. He was his best friend, his lover, someone he could talk to, someone he could count on when he needed to.

He was a human to him.

Takanori was all that Akira needed.


	3. Attack Dog Part 3 - The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the final chapter.

"Itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout."

Takanori sang slow and quiet, walking his fingers up the woman's throat. He could feel the vibrations of her whimpers against his claws as he trailed them across her face and above her eyes.

"Down came the rain..."

Takanori dug the index and middle claw of his right hand into each of her closed eyes. They easily cut through the thin flesh of her eyelids and buried deep into her eye sockets. The woman screamed and Takanori grinned, his grip tight on her hair as he forced her head still.

"... And washed the spider out."

He curled his fingers inwards and felt the nerves and blood vessels that attached them to the mucles squish and snap beneath his sharp claws as he pulled his fingers out painfully slow. The woman screamed again and opened her eyes. Her eyeballs swam in watery blood, unseeing as they bobbed about like apples in a game of apple bobbing.

He reached down and picked the left one out in between his thumb and index finger. It felt warm and squishy against his skin, and when he pulled it up the line of nerves and blood vessels trailed behind it. He let go of the woman's head and it dropped to the floor, and reached behind him, grabbed the plastic zip-lock bag and dropped the eyeball inside. He reached for the other and placed it in the bag before laying it in the metal briefcase and locking it shut.

Akira walked into the living room. He had been rifling through the pantry and had found a bottle of expensive red wine. He had a full wine glass in his hand and an empty one in the other. He took a sip of the full one and handed the other to Takanori, before taking a seat on the leather sofa to watch.

The woman's whimpers were silenced for good as Takanori stabbed his claw deep into her neck and sliced down. The flesh split open like a melon getting sliced by a knife. Takanori removed his claw, licking the blood off, and brought the empty wine glass to the woman's neck.

The blood trickled down and slowly filled the wine glass, before Takanori took a seat next to Akira on the leather sofa.

"Cheers." Takanori raised his glass towards Akira.

Akira smiled and tapped his glass against Takanori's. "Cheers."

***

"Harder."

Akira bit down as hard as he could without piercing the skin. The jugular vein in Takanori's neck was pulsing had and fast against his tongue. He reached out and licked it, and Takanori moaned.

"Hold me tighter."

Akira tightened his grip on Takanori's cock and the shorter blonde bit his lip to stifle a scream. They couldn't get caught, not here, in the weapons room behind a shelf full of guns with Takanori backed against a wall and Akira's hands down his pants. "Oh, fuck - Akira!" Takanori moaned again and Akira bit down on his neck once more before he exploded in his hand.

They pulled apart quickly, and Akira pulled out a handkerchief from inside his suit jacket and wiped his hand clean, whilst Takanori tried to regain himself and button up his skin-tight jeans. The ones that hugged his perk behind in all the right places and was the reason they were in here in the first place.

Or was there another reason?

"Thanks for the souvenir." Takanori smirked and pushed himself away from the wall. There was a bright red bite mark on the right side of his neck and completely on show.

Akira smiled. "Any time." He turned and headed for the door. "Come on, I think Sato wants to see us."

The air conditioning was on in Sato's office, making it terribly cold. Takanori shivered in his oversized black T-shirt as he sat in the chair beside Akira, waiting for Sato to finish some business on his computer.

Sato finally looked away from his computer screen and leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap.

"Your last assignment was completed to a good quality."

Akira nodded. "We strive for the best outcome in our debt collection."

Sano's eyes turned from Akira to Takanori, his brow raised. "What happened to your neck?"

Takanori blushed and his hand went to the bite mark that was made only moments ago. His fingers traced the indents made by Akira's teeth, and he would have smiled were it not for Sato's smug grin.

Akira quickly replied. "He misbehaved, so I had to punish him." His whole manner was calm. It took more than Sato Hemura wearing a smug grin to shake his confidence.

Sato reached for something under his desk. "That's what these are for."

Akira inhaled sharply as Sato placed a stun gun on the desk, his finger laying over the trigger as he pointed it at Takanori.

Takanori's eyes widened and his heart rate increased. He got a kick out of pain, but that was only because it was Akira delivering it and it was safe and consensual, he knew that whatever Sato had planned he wasn't going to enjoy, or likely survive.

Akira tried to remain calm, but it was increasingly hard with the way Sato's gaze turned cold and Takanori was almost shaking in fear. There was only one person that Takanori was afraid of, and that person was sitting in front of him with a stun gun pointed straight at his chest.

Sato smiled. "Good work today, Akira." He chuckled and removed the stun gun from his desk. Takanori let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding, and glanced over at Akira.

Akira's face was hard to read, but Takanori could see the anger in his eyes as he all but glared at Sato.

Sato dismissed them with a wave of his hand and turned to his computer screen. Outside, Akira let loose.

"Fucking Sato! Bastard thinks he can threaten you! I'm gonna kill him!" He fumed, his hands balled into fists as he stepped into the lift behind Takanori. The doors closed and the lift started it's descent.

Takanori sighed and leant against the wall behind him.

Akira looked over and his anger turned to concern. "Are you okay?" He asked, stepping towards the smaller man.

"I'm fine." Takanori replied, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "It's just... It scared me, that's all."

Akira reached out and pulled Takanori close, wrapping his arms around his lover tightly. "We need to get out of here. Go somewhere far away where The Bank can't find us."

Takanori's fingers dug into the fabric of Akira's suit, and he sniffed. "Where?" He asked, tilting his head up to gaze at Akira.

"Hawaii."

"Why Hawaii?"

"First I could think of."

Takanori smiled and hugged Akira tighter. "Hawaii it is then."


End file.
